


Lamarque! His death is the hour of fate.

by Gizmo



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, sobjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 02:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gizmo/pseuds/Gizmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few hours after the meeting they learn about Lamarque's death, Enjolras is finally alone. At least he think he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lamarque! His death is the hour of fate.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaledanvers](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kaledanvers).



> This is from the enjoltaire challenge from tumblr. Hope you like it.

Lamarque is dead. Those were three word Enjolras didn’t want to process. It’s been hours since little Gavroche burst into the café announcing the sad new. And yet, for Enjolras, it didn’t make sense. So he kept his mind busy; preparing the revolution, calling the boys to their last work before the barricade, giving speech about how a great man was Lamarque. The leader of the people just die he thinks as he looks at the empty table of the café. Everyone’s gone now, the meeting is over for more than an hour but he doesn’t feel to go home. The place will be too empty, too silent, too cold, and too empty. And he doesn’t need more spare to be filled with the sadness of the news. Here, at least, he can hear the echo of the other customer downstairs and the laugh and song of the drunk people, trying to drink the misery of their life. 

Sitting on a chair near a widow, he close his eyes, remembering Combeferre’s tight embrace before leaving or Courfeyrac’s hug while going out. They both knew with a glance how devastated he was; he was just good enough not to show it to everyone. He wouldn’t be a good leader if he broke down In front of everyone. Now more than ever he needs to be strong and confident in front of everybody: The barricades are coming soon and it’s no time to show weakness. But now he’s alone. And downstairs they are signing an old song about a king found with a young boy in bed so he try to pretend he thought it was a girl. It’s festive, it’s happy, it’s funny.

But Enjolras burst into tears.

Hand in his face; he let himself do something he knows he couldn’t until the barricades are done. He’s alone and he needs to cry. He needs to be sad about the death of the only political men he believes he could do some good change. How many times, when people were loosing faith during their meeting, he mentioned him as an example that world can change with the right man. How many times he forgot to sleep, lost in the last document he wrote. How many times he talked about him just for the pure pleasure of it.

And so he cried.

Until a voice disturb his moment of humanity «Enjolras?» The blond boy stiffens, trying to stop his sob while whipping his cheek. He looks where the voice came and almost ground of displeasure. If there’s one man he didn’t want to see right now, it was Grantaire. But here he was, his wine in his hand, face red, holding a chair to be steady and wet glowing eyes. Enjolras didn’t bother to speak and turn his back to the drunken man, looking down the street while trying to calm down and stop crying. He hated to hear footsteps going toward him. «What’s wrong?» The cynic asks. Enjolras chuckle, at least he didn’t ask if he was okay or some stupid things like that. «Nothing, everything’s fine.» Lied the leader while keeping his eyes outside, breathing deeply to calm himself. He should have broken down alone in a safe place. His flat was maybe too big and empty right now but at least he wouldn’t have been bother by the only ma that never believes his cause or anything. «You can ask me to leave if you want to be alone but please Enjolras don’t lie to me.» Surprise by Grantaire’s remark, Enjolras turn his gaze to him. The man was near him but still giving him his personal space.

«Everyone can have a hard day.» Simply said Grantaire with a shrug proposing him his bottle. Enjolras shook his head and the artist put in on the table before sitting on the chair next to him. After all, he wasn’t told to go so he will stay. Enjolras was amazed by the fact that this cynic boy wasn’t making any comment about his wet cheek or the sobs he heard earlier. He was ready at any moment for some teasing and mocking comment about it but nothing. The two men stayed sit side by side in silence for a moment. Enjolras took the time Grantaire wasn’t looking (or pretending looking at the street by the windows?) to wipe his last tears, the last one will have before the barricades. That, he promise himself. «Do you want to talk about it? » Ask finally Grantaire and Enjolras shook his head once more, not feeling to talk or do anything. «Maybe you should go see Combeferre or Courfeyrac, they will be more help than I. » And on that Grantaire took his bottle and drank, Enjolras looked at his face changing: from caring and worried he became the same closed and mocking man he always knew. He didn’t know what he did, but clearly he did something that Grantaire didn’t like. But right now, he didn’t want to care about it. His heart was broken enough by the simple idea that Lamarque passed away to have more torment tonight.

Grantaire sigh and took another swing at his bottle before stating t get up but Enjolras reached his arm to make him sit again. «No stay.» He asked. He ordered. Because even if he won’t say it aloud, having someone around was helping him right now. He needed to stop being sentimental and come back to the reality: Lamarque’s death will be the first step to the revolution he dreamed of He will make honor to the chance he was given. Enjolras loved it. Even the sky was crying the loss of one of the greatest men who walk on this earth

So, as ask Grantaire stay by his side, his cheek red as his wine and humming the sound the customer down there were signing. Sometime he look at Enjolras with worried eyes. But the blond man didn’t notice. Lost in his sorrow and his thought. «Will you come at the barricades. » He finally asks after a moment. Grantaire smiled, amuse. «You know I will. » He said. Enjolras smile for the first time tonight. If even Grantaire will come, people will unite in due time. And that, he thought, is the most comforting news he can have. He stand up, imitated by the dark hair man soon after. Putting a hand on Grantaire’s shoulder Enjolras whisper a «Thanks». Thanks from bringing him back to reality, to be there even if they didn’t talk, to come to the barricade. Grantaire looked at him with the same caring eyes he saw earlier. Somehow, it might be the look of the real Grantaire, the one he never showed up in meetings. «Anything for you.» He said.

Enjolras smile again and let the room. His cheeks were dry and his heart not as heavy as it was before. Using Grantaire’s advice, he decided to go talk to Combeferre, already feeling better. And as he look one last time to the café, he saw the dark hair man at the same place he left him, by the window. They look at each other, Grantaire raised his glace and Enjolras smile. Faith can be restore from everyone. Even by the presence of a cynic drunkard.


End file.
